I Sit Too Wait Poem by James McLain

The inducement of the breeze.
Where the winter soon will sit.
Sisters, brothers what of me.

Soft of face
and colors resined space order me,
remember you.

My love became of that a natural thing,
like frosty breath.
Certainly, and how will I, you know it dies.
Without kissing you and yours, and that.
The air which is made the fruit is too my lungs,
the hood the blood.

Wherein my veins you are so very hot.
The sound of it to my center stabilized.
When it is wherein it's you and that has remembered,
like the child whom when it does, it flies,
when and me, you are my with it dying, so it seems
like the dreams a stresam and the vain the sea.

The love which is not of now I know was possible?
Verily the angel sings of most when high and love the golden eye.
Come it is, like God.
Kisses those when both are opened simultaneously.
I am extential, I am not distant in the earth or when the heavens.
I, like you, have my saint-like sweetheart in this bed,
sitting down, I sit too wait.